


Life's Too Short

by oratorio



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:45:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oratorio/pseuds/oratorio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For four years, Hawke has secretly adored Anders, but he has pushed her away. She finally plucks up the courage to try again with him, after overhearing a conversation he has with Aveline about love. One Shot. Rated M for lemons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's Too Short

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I was replaying DA2 recently and a line Anders said during The Long Road quest became a little hook for this one-shot. 
> 
> Bioware owns all characters and the world, quite literally in my opinion :)
> 
> I will be writing more, so any encouragement is welcome. I know I am late to the party but I am hoping there are still some sausage rolls left!

Aveline was sitting on the edge of her desk wringing her hands and looking more nervous than Marian Hawke had ever seen her.  Hawke was torn between concern for her friend, and a growing sense that she was once again going to be asked to undertake a particularly gruesome task.

“So, Aveline, what is it now?” she sighed resignedly, “More raiders to ambush, more plots to uncover?  I’m guessing that you don’t need any help choosing a new pair of shoes.”

“Hah, not from you, Hawke, have you seen the state of yours?” Aveline smiled, briefly, before dropping her gaze.  “I do have a favour to ask of you, though, but it has nothing to do with bloodshed.”

Hawke raised her eyebrows.  “I am intrigued.  Do go on.”

“Um, you remember that guard we rescued from ambush a few years back, Donnic?  There’s something I would like him to have, but I don’t want him to know it has come from me,” Aveline blushed.  “I’d be so grateful if you could just… make sure it gets to him”.

“Aveline… you are blushing.  What’s this all about?”

“No questions, Hawke, just say if you will help me or not, I don’t want to have to explain.”

Hawke sighed.  “Fine, hand it over.  Just don’t think I’m not going to be curious about it.”

Aveline produced a small, rust coloured tablet and passed it to Hawke, who peered at it with interest.

“Um, marigolds?  What on earth?”

“No questions, remember, Hawke!  Please, just give it to Donnic.  He will know what it means.”

“Right, whatever you say,” Hawke grinned and shook her head as she wandered across the hall to deliver the unusual token.

* * *

 

“Well?” Aveline was even more nervous now, one foot bouncing on the floor as her leg trembled.

“He didn’t have a clue what it was.  Honestly, you should have seen his face.  He was confused, and now he thinks I’m weird.”

“Maybe he’s not wrong!” snorted Isabela, who had been hanging around the office with Anders waiting for Hawke to finish her task so they could get back to dealing with the qunari.

“Oh Maker,” Aveline shook her head, “I thought… metal is strong, copper is enduring, and flowers are soft... I thought it was a good gift…”

“Really?  That’s what it was supposed to mean?” Hawke couldn’t suppress a snigger.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s all laugh at the stupid Guard Captain.  Why is it that I can give orders to a barracks full of men, and take the head off a smuggler without hesitation, but I can’t even speak to… one particular man.”

Hawke stopped smiling as she took in the look on Aveline’s face.  The warrior looked particularly distraught.  Hawke felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman – after all, she understood all too well how it was to have feelings for someone and not be with them.  She glanced over at Anders who was lounging against the wall casually listening in to their conversation, and sighed.

Aveline was begging her to invite Donnic to the Hanged Man that evening so that she could accidentally on purpose come across him and start a conversation.  Hawke found herself agreeing to act as a secret go-between – at least one of her small band of loyal companions might find some degree of happiness.

As Hawke headed off again to speak with Donnic, she heard Anders speaking to Aveline, not even pretending that he hadn’t overheard every word.  “You’d do a lot better just to get this fellow alone in a room,” he was saying.  “Life’s too short”.

Hawke felt a lump rise to her throat as she hurried away. 

* * *

 

She had known Anders for four years now, and she had been in love with him for nearly as long.  Ever since Varric had sent her to Anders’ Darktown clinic in search of a map and she had come face to face with the handsome honey blond mage with the golden eyes and the gentle manner, her heart had no longer been her own.  He was a good man, who dedicated his time to healing the poor and asked nothing in return, not even when the effort of mending bones and cleansing disease came at huge cost to his own health.  He was a complex man, who had escaped from the Templars and the Circle seven times and had endured various tortures at their hands.  He was hopelessly entwined with the corrupted Fade spirit of Justice, which could appear as Vengeance whenever Anders was under stress, turning him into a frostfire-radiating creature of pure rage.  He was also funny and self-deprecating, and adored kittens.

It was fair to say that she had never met anybody like him before.

Hawke had always been confident around others, which was probably why she had attracted such a diverse and yet committed group of friends who fought alongside her.  She had wasted no time in making it clear to Anders that she was interested, and he had reacted as if she had come at him with a sharpened dagger.  She would never forget the fear in his eyes, obvious even though he was desperately avoiding her gaze, as he backed away stumbling over his robes in his haste to put distance between them.  Hawke had been stunned, then offended, then upset.  She had avoided him for a long time, until she had needed his healing, and since then they had slowly built a friendship although her feelings had done nothing but grow as she had got to know him.  They had never discussed that evening and she had no desire to risk any further rejections, so she had settled for enjoying his company and kept her own emotions under control.

And now, four years on, and she was still by his side, still running errands in Kirkwall and trying to smooth over complicated city politics in whichever manner was necessary.  And she still wanted him as much as she ever had.  The hardest thing to deal with was her suspicion that he wanted her too, but would never do anything about it.

She often caught Anders looking at her when he thought she couldn’t see him, and she had no doubt that her own covert glances in his direction had not gone unnoticed.  She couldn’t fail to see how Anders spent more time healing her than any of their other companions, how he lingered over her body, his delicate fingers touching her more than was strictly necessary. She had seen the way he struggled to look at her while he was running his hands over her, the way his lips would tighten and his eyes would half-close, the way a muscle in his cheek would twitch.  If this had been anyone else, she would have assumed that this tension was attraction, that here was a person who was interested in her.  But she could not forget the evening when she had flirted and been knocked back so violently, and she recalled the many opportunities he had had since then to kiss her or to open up to her, none of which he had taken.  She was confused, and as much as she had spent much of the last four years in his company, she still struggled to understand him. 

Hawke thought again about what she had heard Anders telling Aveline earlier. He had been right, of course – life was too short to not fight for what you wanted and for those you loved.  She wondered again why she had not tried harder to win him over, or to explore those long looks and warm touches he gave her during quests and battles.  Perhaps it was time to try again.

* * *

 

Hawke had convinced Donnic to come to the Hanged Man that night where Aveline would be waiting to run into him.  As expected, the rest of their party were skulking in a dark corner, waiting to spy on them.  All except Anders, who socialised less with the others, often working late into the night healing people.  For once, Hawke was glad he was not here to see her sitting awkwardly with Donnic, who seemed to think that Hawke had asked him on a date.  Aveline was hiding in Varric’s suite of rooms and nobody could persuade her to come out.

After a painful hour of small talk and throat clearing, Donnic coughed and told Hawke he was not interested in her in that way and left.  Hawke was mortified, a flush rising to her cheeks, as she thought up all the ways she could kill Aveline for putting her in this position.  Maker, that was the last time she did that woman a favour.  She glanced up to see Aveline sidling out of the door and quickly hastened to catch her up.

“Andraste’s flaming ass, Aveline, what do you think you’re doing?” Hawke could not hide her exasperation and annoyance.

“I’m sorry, Hawke, I just couldn’t do it.  He looked bored and fed up and just not in the right mood for talking.  And I didn’t know what to say.”

“Bored and fed up was about right, as was I.  I think it’s fair to say he’s not exactly a sparkling conversationalist, at least not in my company.  You’d better get your act together as he’s not going to make a move.”

“I just… couldn’t.  I’m really sorry.  It won’t happen again.”

“Too right it won’t.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.  Walk with me, please.”

“You owe me, Aveline.  Big time.  You’d better have a decent tab going at the Hanged Man, that’s all I can say.”

As they passed the turning towards Darktown, Hawke made a swift decision.

“I’m just going to see if Anders has any spare health potions, I’ve run out,” Hawke told Aveline.

Aveline threw Hawke a curious look but didn’t ask any questions.  “Fine, Hawke, I’ll see you in the morning.  And I’m sorry again about tonight, I’m a damned fool.  Go careful down there by yourself at this time of night.”

* * *

 

The lantern was still burning as Hawke had expected as she let herself in to Anders’ clinic.  Anders was hunched over a small boy on his treatment table, carefully knitting together his broken ankle as the boy’s nervous mother paced the floor.  Hawke stood quietly to one side, watching him as she waited.  Her heart swelled as she saw the intense concentration on his face and the tender care with which he was treating the boy despite it being obvious that he himself was clearly exhausted, dark circles under his eyes attesting to the fact that he had been working hard in the clinic ever since he had left Hawke’s side late that morning after they had spent several hours fighting on the Wounded Coast.

“There you go young man, that should hold up.  Keep it rested for a day or two, though,” Anders advised the boy as he gingerly got to his feet.  Anders’ gaze followed the boy and his grateful mother as they left the clinic, and he raised an eyebrow as he saw Hawke standing just inside the doorway.

“Hawke.  To what do I owe the pleasure?” Anders offered her a tired smile.

Hawke returned his smile.  “I can’t just drop in on my friends late at night without having a reason?”

“Well, you’ve hardly ever been to see me alone and never at this time of night.  What’s up?” Anders couldn’t hide the slight note of anxiety in his voice.

“Honestly, it’s nothing. I was just walking home from the Hanged Man with Aveline and I… missed you tonight.  I thought I would check you were OK.”

“Aveline!  Of course!  How did THAT go?”

Hawke groaned.  “Don’t ask.  If you must know, she chickened out and left me sitting with Donnic for over an hour staring into our pints and talking about the weather.  He thought I was trying to chat him up.”

Anders laughed.

“Really, Hawke, I imagine if you were actually trying to chat someone up you’d do a lot better than that.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hawke sighed sadly, looking down at the floor, which was surprisingly clean given the filth that pervaded Darktown.

There was a heavy silence.

“So,” Anders said, a little too brightly, “what is she going to do now?”

“I don’t know, Anders, and I really don’t care.”  Hawke was beginning to think that this had been a really bad idea.  She turned to leave.

“Hawke.”

Anders called out to her, stopping her in her tracks with her hand on the door.  She turned to see that he had moved towards her, a look of confusion and concern on his face.

“Why did you really come here tonight?  It wasn’t to talk about Aveline.”

Hawke stood still for some seconds, though it felt like longer.  She furiously debated with herself over what to tell him, then it all just fell from her lips in a sudden rush.

“Anders, Maker help me, but I want you.  I’ve wanted you from the minute we met and it hasn’t got any easier.  I don’t think I can go on being around you feeling the way I do.  I just felt you ought to know the truth.”  She dropped her head and turned again towards the door.

Anders was suddenly behind her, grabbing her arm, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body and the buckles on his robe pressing into her back.

“Hawke, wait.”

She froze, tensed away from him, too afraid to turn and see what was in his eyes.  He kept his hand on her arm for a long time and she could hear him breathing erratically.

“Oh, Hawke.  Marian.  You can’t mean that.  You know what I am, that I am dangerous, that… I could do anything and not be able to control it.  You could never be truly happy with me.  I would only break your heart.”

“You’re doing a fine job of that right now,” she spat brokenly, finally turning to meet his gaze.  He dropped his eyes at the look in hers, stepping back from her, his skin flushed and his nostrils flaring.

“How can you presume to tell me how I feel and what I want?” Hawke was angry now, her hurt at Anders’ rejections and shame at putting herself in this position again swelling up and beginning to overwhelm her.  “I know what you are.  I know who you are, and that is a good man who was only trying to help a friend.  That’s typical Anders – helping everyone, caring for everyone, all except yourself.  You are the most difficult, pig headed, stubborn… wonderful man, and I love you and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Hawke’s anger dissolved as she felt herself breaking down, and she knew she had to get away.  She shrugged off Anders’ touch and ran, tears streaming down her face, not stopping until she reached the safety of her home in Hightown.  Ignoring the worried looks on the faces of Bodahn and her mother, she hurried to her room, slamming the door behind her and sinking down at her dressing table, wincing at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks in the mirror.

How could she have been so stupid?

* * *

 

Anders sat with his head in his hands among the detritus of his clinic.  He had extinguished the lantern and closed the door, feeling unable to speak with anyone at the moment let alone try to heal them. 

Hawke.  He had known how she felt,  had hoped she would never tell him.  Not because he didn’t want her, Maker no, that would be – easier – than this. 

He remembered the day she first came to his clinic seeking out some maps for an expedition to the Deep Roads.  He had been struck by her fresh faced beauty and her confident but light hearted swagger.  When she had looked him in the eye and smiled, he knew that she could have the maps and anything else she asked for.

Later, after he had agreed to help her by providing healing on her expedition, he reflected on his reactions and told himself that he must not get any closer to her, that he couldn’t allow himself to have feelings for anyone.  With the corruption of Justice within him he wasn’t safe, and he had no future.  It was not fair for him to involve anyone else in the mess of his life.  He had hardened his resolve and rebuffed her early attempts to flirt with him, and since then he had thought that she sought only his friendship, which he was happy to give.

His own feelings, however, were not so easily pushed aside.  He had thought his heart had been contained after his upbringing in the Circle, where relationships were discouraged and where developing feelings for other people could be dangerous, as it would give the Templars a way to control people by threatening those they cared about.  He had never been in love, although he had had many dalliances in his youth.  With Hawke, though, he could not deny that his heart pounded when he looked at her, his mouth went dry and his hands became so sweaty that he dare not cast any electricity spells.  He had tried to tell himself that he only cared for her as a friend.

Tonight, though, when she had come to him and told him…. No, he couldn’t think about it.  Except he couldn’t not think about it.  Her pale face, wide green eyes… her trembling lips.  The way she had stiffened at his touch, the way she had dashed away tears before hurrying away from him.  The words she had spoken to him, at first hesitant and hopeful, then angry and hurt.  But even angry she had told him that she loved him.  It had been like a knife to his heart.  Maker knew, he loved her too.  She was the only spark of hope in his miserable life.  And now she was gone.

How could he have been so stupid?

* * *

 

Hawke was lying in bed curled under her blankets, still in her leather armour, wide awake and not even trying to sleep when the noises from downstairs started.  She sat up straight and instinctively reached for her daggers, frowning as she heard footsteps hammering up the staircase and Bodahn’s voice carrying along the corridor to her room.  “Messere, I cannot allow this!” the dwarf was calling out,  “Please, messere, you are trespassing and must leave now”.

Hawke leaped out of bed and readied herself, daggers in hand, set to greet this unwelcome visitor to her home in the middle of the night.  There was a loud knocking at her bedroom door.

“Who is it?” she called, nervously.

“Hawke.  It’s me.”

Anders.  What was he doing here?  Had he not upset her enough for one night?

“Please let me in.  We need to talk.”

“I think you said enough earlier, Anders.  I have no desire to hear any more.”

“Hawke, please.  Just give me ten minutes.  I really need to see you.”

Hawke sighed.  She should know better, but when would she ever stop being an idiot around this man.

“Ten minutes then.  No more.  And if you’ve just come here to hurt me again, I swear I will gut you like a fish.”

The door slowly opened and Anders peered around it, his handsome face creased into lines of worry.  Probably just wanting to avoid being gutted like a fish, Hawke thought.

“So talk.”  She was in no mood to tiptoe around him.

He closed the door behind him softly and turned to face her.  She knew she must look a sight, with her hair all mussed and her eyes sore from crying.  He stretched out a hand towards her cheek, but hesitated and withdrew it.  He turned away from her, head low.

“Hawke, I am sorry I upset you.  I never meant to hurt you.”

Hawke snorted, and remained silent, staring at his back.

“The truth is…” Anders stumbled over his words, paused, “the truth is, I have never wanted anyone more than I want you.  I didn’t even think it was possible to feel this way about another person.  I have never let myself love before, love has always been dangerous for me, for different reasons.  But Marian… it’s you, I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t bear to lose you….”

Hawke put her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.  They both had tears in their eyes.

“I can’t stand to hurt you either, and I am so frightened that I will, even if it’s the last thing I want to happen,” Anders went on in a rush, wanting to get the words out.  “But I love you.  And life’s too short to be unhappy, Maker knows I can’t fight it any more, I can’t give up the chance to be with you.”

He smiled weakly.  “That is, if you still want to be with me.”

Hawke gazed up at him,  “No matter what.”

Anders bent his head to hers and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss.

* * *

 

Four years.  Four years she had wanted him, four years she had imagined what his mouth would taste like, how his body would feel.  She was thrumming with desire as she sank into his touch.  His lips were soft, and he tasted vaguely of herbs.  She moaned against his mouth as his tongue began to twine with hers, making her wriggle against his chest.  Kissing him was every bit as wonderful as she had imagined it to be… but she had waited so long, she wanted more.

“Anders,” she gasped, breathlessly.  “Stay with me… tonight.  Please.”

His eyes widened as he processed her words, then darkened as he moved towards her again, his lips running along her jaw, dropping small kisses as he reached her delicate ear. 

“Are you sure?”

She could feel him shivering against her as he held her close, waiting for her confirmation.

“There is nothing in this world that I want more.”

He sighed and buried his face in her shoulder at her words.

* * *

 

She couldn’t remember how they had got to the bed, but she was lying on her back with her hair tangled in Anders’ hands as he covered her with his body and his mouth.  Her hands were running along his back, over his robes.  She pulled at them, making a sound of frustration.

“Off,” she demanded, once she could bear to tear her mouth from his.

“As you say,” Anders grinned and stood over her, unclipping his robes.  With a big sigh, he shucked them off his shoulders and let them pool around his feet.

Hawke gazed at him, standing over her in just his breeches.  His skin was pale and lightly dusted with freckles, he wasn’t toned like Fenris or muscled like Sebastian, but she felt a thrill race through her at the sight of him.  He was perfect, and she ran her hands along his chest and down his body to the trail of dark golden hair disappearing into his breeches.  She shuddered with desire and planted a kiss on his belly.

Anders let out a gasp and pushed her backwards on to the bed.  “Now you,” he told her, a catch in his voice.  Hawke lay back and threw her arms wide.  “Feel free,” she winked at him, invitation in every pore of her body.

“You still have your armour on!” Anders belatedly registered what she was wearing and was confused.

“Um, well, I was upset earlier.  I wasn’t thinking straight.  Didn’t feel like moving let alone bothering to get this stuff off,” Hawke admitted.

Anders looked chastened, “I’m sorry.”

“Make it up to me.”

He didn’t need telling twice.

Fingers trembling, he fumbled with the buckles on her armour – they were fiddly at the best of times, but as aroused and nervous as he was, they were almost impossible.  Hawke lay back and laughed at his predicament.  She was making him work for this.

“Makers breath, this is like trying to unwrap one of Merrill’s presents, she always uses far too much string and far too many knots.”

“I’m hoping whatever’s inside Merrill’s gifts doesn’t compare to this,” Hawke grinned widely, enjoying Anders’ frustration.

“Hardly.  Nothing possibly can,” Anders shot her a fiery look which did interesting things to her insides and made her finally cave in and start helping him with her chestpiece.

Usually careful with her armour, she let the chestpiece drop to the floor as she pulled Anders close to her, feeling his skin against her stomach.  He was warm, yet pebbled with goosebumps.  She could feel how much he wanted her, and she smiled as she placed a hand between their bodies and gently squeezed him, making him close his eyes abruptly and gasp.

“Let me see you,” she told him, slipping her hands into the waistband of his breeches.  He raised his hips and helped her slide the linens down his legs, kicking them to the floor.  Hawke ran her eyes down his naked body, eyes narrowing in appreciation.  She thought he was beautiful, and she leaned forward to whisper her thoughts into his ear, making him blush and smile.

“As are you, my wonderful Marian,” he breathed hotly, tugging at her breastband.  She tensed as she felt his soft hands run over her nipple, and bit back a moan.  How could this evening go from pain to… this… in a matter of hours?

He kissed her deeply, intensely, a hunger in his eyes that she had never seen.  She felt a flash of apprehension, wondering how Justice would cope with such a display of emotion, but this brief hesitation disappeared as Anders began to nuzzle her neck and she surrendered to his touch, fire racing along her skin where his lips burned kisses.  His mouth moved lower, and she felt him take a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue as she arched her back in desire.

He lightly ran a hand down her stomach, down the outside of her thighs until she was rolling her hips begging him to touch her.  Her fingers were pushing wildly through his hair and she let out small gasps as her skin tingled deliciously.  With one move, Anders returned his attention to her mouth, cutting off the loud cry she emitted as he pushed a finger into her core and began to circle her clitoris with his thumb.  She couldn’t remember ever feeling this aroused or this needy.  She thought that she would do absolutely anything for him never to stop touching her like this.

* * *

 

Anders was amazed and delighted.  He had long dreamed of doing this with her, and had often fantasised about what she would look like in the throes of passion.  The reality was so much better than he had ever imagined.  He was finding it hard to hold back, his heart was racing and his cock was twitching and he wanted so badly to be inside her.  It had been so long since he had been with a woman, and this was not just any woman but the first woman he had ever truly loved.  He wanted to freeze time and stay in this moment forever, this perfect night.

He moved lower down her body, marvelling at the muscles flexing under velvet skin, kissing the pale scars that evidenced her recent years of work as a rogue.  Watching her writhe and abandon herself to his touch he was rendered breathless at her beauty and her rare vulnerability.

He pressed his tongue to her nub, enjoying making her buck and whine underneath him.  She was begging him for more in a husky voice he had never heard her use before, as he began to swirl his tongue around her wetness, tasting her and teasing her.  She tensed and stretched her entire body as he dipped his tongue into her, using his mouth and his fingers at the same time to bring her to the edge.  Anders smiled into her folds as he let a gentle spark of lightning fly from his fingertips to flicker over her clitoris, sending her into wild and violent spasms as she came hard, calling out his name over and over.

“Oh – that was cheating,” she sighed as she collapsed bonelessly onto the bed.  Anders could only smile widely at her, thrilled that he had managed to make her feel so good.

* * *

 

Hawke held Anders close to her chest for a moment, before rolling him over gently and kissing him deeply, tasting herself on his lips.  She ran her hands along his chest, dragging her nails across his nipples and making him inhale sharply.  Gazing down his body, her breath caught at the sight of him trembling and so obviously aching for her.  Reaching out, she took him in a gentle hold and started to move her hand slowly up and down his shaft.  Anders moaned at her touch before pushing her hand away. “Please, Marian, you need to stop that, or I… I won’t be able to hold on.”

Hawke reluctantly dropped her hand and slithered her body, glistening with sweat, over his, branding another kiss on to his lips.  She raised her hips and positioned herself over him before sinking down and taking him into her, all the while looking deeply into his hazy amber eyes.  She sucked on her lips and stifled a groan as he filled her warmth perfectly, pushing deep into her body.  Anders gripped her hips and held her still, eyes closed and struggling to keep control.  She tightened herself around him and he made a noise deep in his throat, shaking his head, clenching his fist around her bed sheets in his efforts to make the moment last.

They held each other this way for several minutes, until Anders sighed and bucked his hips below her, her cue to start moving, delicious friction sending them both into a pure state of bliss. They both knew that this would not last long, and it was a hard and passionate joining of their bodies, Hawke grinding her hips against him as she met his desperate thrusts, crying out together in ecstasy as Anders spilled his seed deep within her, gasping and shuddering between her thighs.

Hawke leaned forward, sliding off Anders’ spent cock, and curled up against his warm and solid chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating rapidly beneath her ear.  She sighed in satisfaction and absently stroked circles on his damp skin as they both relaxed into the afterglow of their unexpected lovemaking and reflected on the swift change in their relationship.

“I love you, Anders,  You’re a beautiful man, and all I have ever wanted.”

Anders smiled at her sadly.

“You obviously never wanted much, dear Marian.  I just hope I can be what you want me to be, and that your heart doesn’t break over the man I am.  I will do my best for you, my love, as you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I love you more than I thought possible.”

They were silent for some minutes and Anders thought that Hawke must have fallen asleep in his arms, when she suddenly lifted her head with a smirk playing across her face.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask… Justice, does he…?”

Anders shook his head, embarrassed.

“No, Justice doesn’t approve of me spending time with you, let alone… this.  He wants nothing to do with my choices in this matter.”

“Ah.  Good to know.”

She wrapped an arm tightly around him and soon her head had dropped on to his chest and she was snoring gently.

As he pulled a blanket over them both, Anders sighed.

He knew he was going to hurt her more than she could ever imagine, that much was inevitable.  But if they could both find a small measure of happiness in the meantime… all he could hope for is that she, in the end, would look back and believe it had been worth it.


End file.
